


Calcicoles

by handschuhmaus



Series: Our Only Actions of Significance [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Darth Plagueis - James Luceno
Genre: Gen, smol Palpatine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 04:12:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14276643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handschuhmaus/pseuds/handschuhmaus
Summary: "Ironically there is a strong case for arguing that Leblanc process waste is the most endangered habitat in the UK, since the waste weathers down to calcium carbonate and produces a haven for plants that thrive in lime-rich soils, known as calcicoles."-"Leblanc process" on WikipediaThe no-longer "Palpatine" family find themselves on treacherous ground, navigating a first job as a consultant and in the process, a chance encounter with a pair of Sith...





	Calcicoles

**Author's Note:**

> I skipped an intervening story for the time being, so ah, this doesn't follow directly from the previous work. (In the series Химия и жизнь, that is.)

This, Amara thought, this was the first job of its magnitude that she had undertaken. 

"Are you here to see the boss?" asked a Mon Calimar who was wearing a protective canvas smock and standing behind the desk immediately inside the door. 

Sheev, seven, and possibly not an ideal guest for her first consulting trip but one obliged by circumstances, retreated behind her. He had been scared of most strangers recently.

"Well, yes. Amara Thier."

"Ah, he's expecting you. His office is the third door on the right down the hall. Name tag Barry. You can't miss it. I don't recommend opening the other doors, though."

"May I ask why?" she couldn't help inquiring after that.

"The janatorial closet is poorly organized and prone to spilling out all over people. The coat closet is the favored napping spot of the office feline, who doesn't always like being disturbed. Now, if you'd like to see Barry--"

With a raised eyebrow and her son's hand in hers, Amara walked down the hall to the door that had been accurately described. She knocked.

"Come in!" said a melodious voice. 

The office itself was not tremendously surprising. Three chairs for guests, a large desk, some decorative model ships and several plants, a shelf full of various forms of data storage, curtains with a cheerful floral over the window. What was surprising was that "Barry" appeared to be a Hutt, and Amara had heard numerous unpleasant things about Hutts and how they liked to surround themselves with debauchery.

"Hello, you must be Lady Thier, and your son. I would offer you candy, but I don't have any, and I've heard that strangers shouldn't offer candy to children anyway."

"It's not 'Lady' anymore, but yes." Sheev drew her attention by noticing something she had not: a large tank full of branches, and containing a couple of lizards.

"Oh, yes, small child, those are my pet chameleons, Horace and Barnaby. You're welcome to watch them, but please don't tap on the glass."

"I'm not that small," Sheev protested, drawing himself up to his full seven year old height.

"I'm sorry. You may have noticed I'm a Hutt and I am not very good at guesstimating human ages."

Amara sighed and informed Barry, "The idea of not accepting candy from strangers is usually for children not under adult supervision."

"Ahh-hah!" the Hutt made a surprisingly harmonious noise. "That I had failed to pick up on." He, (or so Amara presumed given "Barry"), touched a button on an intercom panel at the desk, while seeing to flutter his eyelids. "I'm sending for all the documentation I imagine you want. The chemicals, the processes, blueprints."

"I see," she answered hesitantly, thinking back to the hotel room (where Mina was sick and under Jennie's care) and the boardwalk they wanted to visit.

"I'll, ah, have some of my agents show you around, too. I don't think your child should enter the process room, although as long as--" Barry turned his face toward Sheev, "you don't touch any of the machines, you should be okay in the main room." Her son turned stubbornly back to the glass of the cage.

She was surprised again, a little, by the fact that a Twi'lek woman entered without knocking, bearing an armful of datapads and flimsi sheets, including rolled blueprints. More interesting yet, she looked to be of relatively advanced age, and she wore an ornate uniform. 

"Oh dear! That won't do at all. Do we have any boxes or bags?" Barry exclaimed, looking at the pile of stuff.

"Catch!" A Muun, who was not wearing a uniform, stepped into the room and tossed an empty box at Barry, who only just managed to snag it from the air. 

"Magister Damask!" Barry exclaimed again. "Is everything alright? Why did you have this box?"

"He walked into it," someone said from outside the room. Sheev looked up at the Twi'lek and the Muun, his eyes lingering on the embroidered robes the latter wore.

Barry sighed. "Madame, Magister Damask is serving as an accountant for an architect who is considering a deal with my plant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBC etc...


End file.
